


Getting a Hair Cut

by Anonymous



Category: Courage the Cowardly Dog
Genre: Dry Humping, Dubious Consent, Hair Kink, Head Shaving, I'd say it's the most evil thing I've written, Other, but it's not, which says a lot about me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 11:33:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It's not the easiest thing to find a good barber in the outskirts of Nowhere.(I'm so sorry, blame the Reanimated project)





	Getting a Hair Cut

“Just a trim, please.”

You sat down with a cloak of plastic draped over your chest from nimble hands that just barely grazed over your skin as they made their way around, clipping the two ends behind your neck. This was the cheapest barber and honestly the closest one in all of whatever town you lived in, mostly just barren land, and he’d been nice to work with so far. Although, you’d figured he’d not have many customers lately; he seemed antsy for you to get a haircut like he’d not had anyone come in for a while. You could respect someone who was eager to do their job.

He stood behind you, imposing in size compared to yourself in the seat. Towering above you with a razor, which prompted you to repeat yourself, “just a trim. Split ends is all.” The man’s expression seemed to falter a bit, switching off the razor he’d turned on in advance already.

The bright red razor was set on the counter, and his bony fingers latched onto a pair of thinning scissors, threading through their blue handles as he removed them from their “barber-grade antiseptic” soak, whatever the hell that meant. The toothed blades hooked under some locks of hair as his free hand began to lift some strands as he examined you by the scalp. “Tell me,” he inquired, “when was the last time you had your hair cut, if you don’t mind me asking?”  
You shrugged, which he physically responded to by holding down one of your shoulders. Reminder to self to not move too much. “I think, maybe, a few months ago. Long overdue, I’d think, hah...” Your eyes averted the mirror, and in turn, his strangely engaged smile. The way his fingers grazed your scalp made you shiver a bit.

“I do agree your hair is overdue for something, yes.” The thinning scissors made their mark on your hair, pulling out strands and dry ends from the outgrowth from your head. Say, your hair was feeling lighter already. “Now about your, ah, hair style,” the barber muttered, twirling a bit of hair near the front of your face, “have you considered, perhaps, shortening it a tad? It’s quite in style.”

You resisted the temptation to shake your head no, instead elaborating verbally, “no, ah-ha, it’s… It’s taken a few years to grow it out this long, so, um.” You fell short for any further explanation, but you thought this would do fine as means of telling him off on up-charging you for the full haircut instead of the trim, or whatever reason he’d have for trying to snip off your locks. Maybe it was a black market thing.

He spoke with noticeable exasperation in his tone, “I really do insist, it’s on the house, here – here we go,” and he’d already moved a long arm to trade off from simple thinning scissors to that razor again, which you reacted to with rightful indignation, to be fair.

“No, no, no. I’m not,” and yet, you certainly were. His hand was chilly and pressed firmly against your shoulder, your neck, running through your hair, insisting. And you couldn’t find the will to get up from that stupid barber’s seat. Especially with your eyes and ears on the heavy, incessant buzzing of that razor.  
Your heart jumped when the teeth met your neck, that of the razor. It almost kind of tickled, but in a painful sort of way that you’d hated since you had your hair trimmed up with one way back when, and you’d not agreed to using an electric razor ever since. The buzzing really got to you, and yet, here this guy was, silently persuading you into this awful feeling of the razor nipping the threads of hair that hung from your head no longer. Your head felt a lot more… naked, if that was the word for it, as it made its way up your head. Giant locks cascaded down your front-facing cape.

“See how nice you look shhhaven?” He tilted your vision up from staring blankly at the ground towards the mirror in front of you, turning your head so you could see the bare skin that poked through with not much in the way anymore. The job was only half done, though, the other half of your head a nice comparison for how your hair should have, could have still looked. And behind you loomed that smiling figure, a little name tag that read Fred. What an innocent-sounding name for a guy who’d be taking all those years of growth from your hairstyle. He continued, “oh, how beautiful it looks on you, might I add.”

All the hair off the top was gone in one fell swoop. He wasn’t even leaving you with an undercut, no, he was cutting it ALL off. You sniffled, some mix of being upset and all that hair getting in your face making you cry a little. You tried to hide it, pass it off as just the irritation from debris, but his free hand tilted your chin up to look not at the mirror, but him. “Now, now, little thing, you look wonderful with all your…” He paused, breathing growing laboured for a moment, “beautiful hair taken off there, to see it all just…” One last row, a final motion, and the last of your hair? Gone. “It all just comes off so nice and clean, so...” His calloused fingers grazed your sensitive scalp, making you both wince and notice how rarely that skin had been exposed, touched, “so beautiful.”

You reached a hand from under your protective bib of sorts, touching the peach fuzz that now donned your head. All your hair was gone and on the floor around you. He said behind the nastiest of smiles, “sorry for that, I just… I feel a bit naughty at times, I had to, I don’t… I don’t get a lot of customers with such a flourishing mane.” This is why it was so cheap. God damn it.

You couldn’t even say anything. What were you meant to say, after he shaved you clean? To be honest, though, it wasn’t a half-bad look. But you still didn’t like it.

“Do you need to be shaved anywhere else?”

Oh no. What could he mean by that.

“…I understand if you don’t want me to. But it’s free of charge, for obvious reasons.”

Hell no. Hellllllllllll no no no. You were getting up out of that seat, tossing the stupid little cape thingy off of you. You were almost out.

And then, with a solid thud, you were forced onto the ground onto your back. You’d lift your arms, but they were pinned above your head with the force of that man’s spindly fingers from one of his hands. Your legs, similarly, by Fred’s own weight. Fuck.

“I’m so sorry, oh, I really am, I just can’t help but be naughty,” and a skeletal pinky finger snaked down to your pants, your underwear, the hem teased by his nails before being grabbed at, pulled down to your knees to reveal a fair amount of bush below your waist. You didn’t really bother with the whole shaving thing, and this seemed to get the other… unpleasantly excited.

That razor pressed against your hairy cunt, nipping at the curled hairs that began to fall from between your legs. Your back arched, the typically horrible feeling of the electronic razor being unfortunately really nice feeling, actually. He started from one side, one fat lip barren within the minute, and found himself drooling as he moved to the next. “Oh, what a sight to behold, you have so much hair… Not anymore, though.”

That hand set down the razor and brushed over the freshly shaven skin, your cunt sensitive for a number of reasons. It didn’t help that he seemed more than eager to explore the flesh inside too, bony fingers wriggling in to feel you out. Not what you were expecting out of a barber’s visit, mind you. You let out an embarrassing noise, full-on yelping when he pressed against some especially nerve-ridden bits inside of your pussy. His eyes lit up at that, feverishly fingering you in the most delicate of spots.

He pulled his sticky fingers out of your cunt, leaving a slick residue that he took to wiping off on his pretty barber coat. “I’ll have to clean that off later,” he remarked to himself, and before you could take to scurrying off with your pants pulled down around your knees, Fred lifted himself up to his knees between your legs. And your own legs were being pulled around his waist, and you saw where this was going. The faint sound of a zipper being undone.

You couldn’t see much beyond the very thick outline of something straining his briefs, damp at the end through the cloth with a wet sheen. It looked like he considered, for a moment, pulling those down too, but his eagerness got the better of him, you’d assume, rutting against your already red, tender pussy with his underwear in the way of his quite literally throbbing member.

He let out a long whine, doubling over himself to bury his face into the crook over your neck with his back arched. Fred’s breath was heavy and hot on your skin as he humped so desperately into your body, dampening his underwear with your own slit that leaked embarrassingly onto him. You almost felt bad for the guy.  
With a sigh, you took a finger and shakily pulled down his underwear. It wasn’t that hard of a feat, he was just too impatient to do it himself. Gazing down at the thing, you regretted it for a split moment just seeing the size, good god the size of the thing around. It had more girth than you were prepared to expect. “Please,” you heard him gasp out, “I’m so, so naughty, I need to,” and his hips began hitting against your hilt the moment the tip found its way resting in your cunt. Your first instinct was to wrap your arms around his neck so you didn’t fall to the floor and crack your skull like an egg or something; the sheer force he took to fucking you was 0 to 100 really fast.

The first thing you noticed once the shock of being fucked into like a fleshlight was how noisy he was. His mouth was right next to your ear, letting out the most feverish and choked moans you’d ever heard. It really seemed like he’d not gotten it on in a long, long time…And yet, he made up for lack of experience with how eager he was. You bit your bottom lip so hard, you swore you could have drawn blood, and your cunt was sore from the beating it was taking after its plushy hair was shaved off. It didn’t last much longer after you squeezed around him as you came, your eyes rolling back with a low, long groan. In fact, he came literally immediately after, more fluid than normal for most filling your insides to the brim to the point where it almost hurt.

You were set down in a cleaner barber’s chair, a cloak being placed around your front to cover your…indecency. Your body ached, like, all over. Raising a hand to your flushed face, you ran it over your drooled-upon cheeks and through – well, more over the stubs of hair that was left from your haircut. “Not the worst look for you.” That firm hand on your shoulder again, and that weird grin on his face.

You’d hope to get a haircut here soon; see if you could grow it out a little for the other before you dropped by again.

**Author's Note:**

> not sorry actually. we vibe


End file.
